An Ethiopian Feast

When I arrived in Addis Ababa on January 7th, I found that it was Christmas and most people were in a festive mood, a stark contrast to Nairobi where I had left people reporting to work at the start of a new year. I had just two days to spare in this city before heading on the historical northern route, hitting up spots like Lalibela and the Danakil Depression. To make the most of my time, I signed up for a food tour on my first day, which promised an immersive introduction to Ethiopian food—exploring several restaurants for local food and drinks, all while walking around town to get a feel for the daily life there.

I met Genet, a warm and personable nursery school teacher-turned-guide that the tour company paired me up with, at Esset Restaurant. Walking in, there was grass spread on a patch of ground at the entrance; I had noticed earlier that my taxi driver had grass on the floor of his car. This was done during celebrations to wish each other well. Ethiopian jazz played softly on the speakers, and one wall was covered in black-and-white paintings of the country’s famous actors, musicians, and journalists. At the open kitchen, the staff were dexterously pouring a four-day fermented teff flour mixture onto a circular griddle to bake, making the staple dish, injera. This came served in a sharing platter accompanied by Shiro, a chickpea stew that quickly became a favorite while exploring the country.

Genet told me the rules for eating from a shared platter: use one hand, no licking, and no double-dipping. The waitresses, as polite and pretty as Ethiopian women are said to be, went around passing complimentary freshly-made defo dabo bread, their Christmas gift to patrons.

After this meal, we took a stroll to the next spot called Yeshi Buna. Buna is the Ethiopian word for coffee, which, according to legend, was discovered here by a shepherd named Kaldi who, after noticing that his goat became more energetic after nibbling on the bright red berries of a particular bush, decided to try them for himself. Today, the beverage is typically served black, in espresso-style cups, with sugar on the side. Yeshi Buna proudly displayed its coffee set at one corner, and the chairs all had hand-carved images that told stories of some of the 80 tribes in Ethiopia, such as a lady from the highlands spinning cotton by hand. The space was intimate, the chairs low, and the dish, when it came served in a colorful woven basket, was delicious. We accompanied this with a St George beer, which was light and easy to enjoy, even for a beer-averse person like me.

The walk to the final stop took about 15 minutes, which I spent taking in Bole, considered the nicest part of Addis. Old taxis and tuk-tuks painted white and dark blue lined a cobblestoned street, while the women sashayed along in their beautiful handwoven and embroidered traditional dresses. I marveled at the charming street-side cafes and bars and said hello to some people; by my experience, Ethiopians were really warm and welcoming. Having worked up enough appetite to eat again, we got to Yilma, which Genet boldly declared the best butchery in Addis. Its claim to fame was that this was where Anthony Bourdain dined when he visited the city. It was a family business started 50 years ago by the patriarch who started off selling livestock from his farm before progressing into this meat-focused eatery. Fresh delivery was done daily, and since Orthodox Christians didn’t eat meat on Wednesday and Friday, they remained closed on those days.

The space was large with numerous tables, two TVs, and a live butchery from which we ordered our meat. There were two go-to dishes here. The tibs was fried up with a lot of onions and was downright delicious; a typical Kenyan’s dream. Then there was tire siga, which translated to raw meat, and that’s exactly what it was. Straight from the butcher’s knife, the beef was diced, then served on a plate, accompanied by a spicy dip made with red chili, awaze, mitmita, and mustard. I took a chunk, dipped it into the condiment, then took a bite. It was soft, and I did get the sense that I was chewing raw beef… but maybe that was just a psychological thing. Given the number of spices used in the condiment, it was bold and flavorful, but without it, I probably wouldn’t have dared to eat the raw meat.

Given that it was a holiday, we were unable to get a place that did a coffee ceremony. After a delightful time showing me around Addis, introducing me to the food, and answering all my eager questions about the culture, Genet and I parted ways with a promise to keep in touch. The night was still young, so I swung by the oldest coffee house in town, Tomoca, where the coffee was still brewed in vintage coffee machines. Thereafter, I was wired enough to go out dancing…

LANGUAGE BASICS:

Selam: Hello

Ameseginalew: Thank you